Becoming Words
by xoarv
Summary: Edmund just wants to be accepted and Caspian wants someone to need him. Chronicles Edmund and Caspian's relationship, beginning on the eve of Peter's battle with Miraz.  Note: Accuracy for movie; may be minor canonical errors.
1. Chapter 1: The Cave Bedroom

**Chapter 1: The Cave Bedroom**

The night before Peter will battle Miraz, Edmund sits in his cave room, trying desperately to sleep but failing miserably. He feels old again, so old. It's not unusual anymore - he feels his history weighing him down, dragging at the corners of his mind.

The Witch's reappearance makes him feel young and foolish, too, and odd. He has grown so much since then - aged a lifetime and lost it all, grown a few earth years, and learned lessons - but he is the same stupid boy at the center of him, still wanting desperately to win at something. To be someone's favorite.

The light from the doorway is blocked; Edmund looks up. Caspian stands in the doorway tentatively.

"Are you alright?" he asks in his accented English, and Edmund sighs, bangs his head against the wall behind him.

"Fine."

Caspian says nothing but does not leave. He seems torn between leaving and entering, and Edmund wishes he'd choose the former. Edmund is not one who enjoys being with other people; he has always preferred to be on his own. He prefers to be by himself, reading a book and learning rather than being out among the people as Peter loved to be. Perhaps that was why Peter was a better king. Always the better king.

"Your sister was looking for you," says Caspian, and Edmund laughs.

"I think Susan was probably looking for _you," _he says, laughing, but there is no humor in it; it sizzles out of his mouth wrapped in a sigh. "You seem to have made an impression on her."

Susan would _kill _him for saying this, but she's not here and Edmund's feeling angsty. What else is new.

"Oh, yes, that," says Caspian, blushing slightly. "Actually, Lucy's looking for you."

_Interesting reaction, _thinks Edmund. In their years before in Narnia, Edmund has seen men fall over themselves for his older sister. Courtiers used to come all the time to Cair Paravel to win Susan over, and she'd always accept their gifts but never their affections in the snide graciousness she always seemed to exude. Edmund never understood how aloof Susan managed to take to court life so naturally - she was the master of all the lords, who threw themselves at her, desiring just to _touch _her, to be with her, and she never accepted any of them - at least, not publicly. Edmund was sure Susan had taken her share of loves, secretly and behind closed doors so as not to incite a scandal. She was Loving, Virtuous Susan, after all.

But Edmund knew better. He could always find her around a dark corner, laughing at something a lord whispered in her ear. Whenever Edmund caught her, their eyes would meet, his uncertain and bemused, hers unwavering. She always met his gaze with an air of importance. _So? _her eyes asked. _Who are you to judge? _

Edmund never judged.

Peter preferred the company of Luna, the beautiful girl from a land across the sea. She was perfect and blond and the two were married when Peter turned twenty-two and Luna was eighteen, and everything was lovely and they loved each other until the end of the Pevensie rule in Narnia. Peter had _died_ when they'd returned to find everyone gone; Luna had perished with the memory of Peter by her side, the imprint still on her bed.

Even Lucy, he assumed, had taken up with men from court, but she, of course, was almost virginal in her love, completely devoted to Aslan and the Good of Narnia. She could not be deterred.

Edmund, however, found no one to love. He preferred to be alone. He preferred long walks on the shores, strolls through the forest. He preferred to write in the leather notebook always in his tunic, sometimes just to sit on the cliffs and watch the world below. Edmund was content with Narnia. He did not need a lover. He supposed he loved Aslan, but that was obviously of a different nature entirely, and Aslan always was off with Lucy, walking and talking an discussing things while Edmund seemed to constantly forget about his importance. Perhaps that's why Lucy was a better queen than Edmund was king.

"Edmund?"

Edmund shakes his head to clear away the memories. "Right. Well, I'll be in here. If you see her again, you can tell her that."

Caspian frowns slightly but says nothing again. "May I come in?"

Edmund sighs but beckons him in with one hand. Sitting across from Edmund on the floor, Caspian's face is half-lit by the light pouring in from the doorway; it turns his skin golden, the other half dark.

"What is it like, to be back?" asks Caspian softly, and Edmund casts his eyes downward.

_It is hell. It is heaven._

"It's...different," settles Edmund. "It's never the same as it was. And it's odd to be back here when I've lived here my whole life, but I'm younger than I was before. To remember all the days I've lived in these lands but I was older then."

"Is it a pleasant feeling, to remember?" Caspian wants to know.

"No," says Edmund automatically, even though the judgment isn't fair. Of course it's pleasant sometimes, to look up to the ruins of Cair Paravel and remember the feasts and the dancing and the golden days in which everything was long and luxurious. When nothing was in peril. When his brother wasn't about to die.

Caspian is silent for a moment. "Do you dislike me?"

Edmund looks up at him; Caspian looks back but diverts his gaze to the floor.

"No," says Edmund firmly. "I don't dislike you. What would make you think that?"

Caspian thinks for a moment. "You seem...distant," he decides. "Peter is threatened by me a little, I can tell. Susan is...taken with me, and Lucy I don't think has ever disliked anyone. But you're - _distant."_

"Yes, well," mutters Edmund. "That's sort of my thing."

Caspian raises his eyebrows and his gaze.

"Did they ever tell you about the first time we were here?" Edmund asks. Caspian shakes his head.

"I'm the reason Aslan died," says Edmund bitterly. "I'm the reason the Witch came back the other night. I'm the reason Aslan doesn't rule now, and the Telmarines ruled and killed all the Narnians, and I'm the reason we're all in danger now. If Aslan had always ruled as he should've, none of this would have happened."

"And you blame yourself," supplies Caspian.

Edmund sighs impatiently. _"Yes."_

"But - " begins Caspian, wondering, " - if Aslan hadn't died, he wouldn't have been able to die _for _you."

Edmund furrows his brow. "So?"

"From what I've learned about Narnia as it was and the legend of Aslan - "

" - It's not a legend," says Edmund reflexively, and Caspian concedes this with a nod.

" - Yes, what I've learned about Aslan, it seems that Aslan needed to die _for _you, to redeem you. To redeem all Narnians. If he'd just died, there wouldn't have been much of a point, would there've?"

"I don't understand," says Edmund blankly, and Caspian smiles faintly in the glow of the light from outside.

"Neither do I," he says. Standing, he brushes off his legs. "Thank you for telling me these things."

When he leaves, Edmund feels sort of blank, as if things are coming unraveled.

Caspian finds Edmund interesting. Which is a dangerous step, because it's not the first time he's found a boy - a man - _interesting. _There was Fernando, the boy who was fifteen and beautiful and looked like the sun over the ocean, and Caspian had fallen completely head over heels in love with him when Fernando's mother found them kissing one day behind a hedge in the garden and sent Fernando off to live with a cousin far away.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to Edmund. Peter is much too noble for his taste. And he likes a sense of history in a person. The kind of history that settles on Edmund's shoulders no matter where he goes, the kind that is pressuring the frown that almost always graces Edmund's face. His dark, beautiful face.

Caspian pretends he isn't attracted to Edmund because admitting it is the next step to losing something he can never have. Not that he wants to _have _Edmund...he just wants -

Caspian finds himself drawn to Edmund's room almost every night, lit by the light from the outside, and they talk. Mostly Caspian asks questions and Edmund answers in his short, bitter way, and Caspian asks more questions. They talk about how Edmund thinks Peter is much better than him. They talk about how Edmund feels responsible for everything that happens to his siblings and to Narnia. He feels guilty that it was his brother battling Miraz, even though he's the better swordsman. And one night, instead of conversing through the light of the door, Caspian closes it behind him as he enters. It is dark for a moment before Edmund coolly lights a few candles.

"Hello," says Caspian in the dark.

"Hello," says Edmund.

When Caspian kisses him softly, Edmund gasps but does not pull away.

So much for ignoring it.

Edmund's head is filled with Caspian and his arms are filled with Caspian and his mouth is filled with Caspian and everything is all Caspian. He smells like smoke and sweet air, and when Edmund lies with his head on Caspian's chest, it doesn't matter that they're going to lose the battle. It doesn't matter that Aslan's left or Peter's better than him or that he's an old man stuffed in a young boy's body. All that matters is that he can hear Caspian's heartbeat beneath his ear, feel his breath on his cheek, feel his lips on the top of his head.

"Thank you," says Caspian into Edmund's hair, and Edmund doesn't know what Caspian's thanking him for, but it doesn't matter. Edmund doesn't know half of what Caspian says anymore. Caspian is filled with a ridiculous sense of tentative wisdom, and it seeps into Edmund's head addictively. He starts to think everything is beautiful around him, and he starts to come out of the hole he'd dug for himself.

No one knows but Lucy, and even Lucy only knows through intuition. Only Lucy sees the glances Caspian and Edmund share. Only Lucy sees Caspian quickly grab Edmund's hand - Caspian is much freer with these things than Edmund - or smile furtively in his direction. Only Lucy sees and Lucy gives Edmund private smiles and is so loving she doesn't make fun of him at all.

Everything is perfect.


	2. Chapter 2: The Town

**Chapter 2: The Town**

When Edmund gives one last glance at Caspian, it is like a knife in his chest. He is acceptance and happiness, and Edmund has to leave. And though he will return to Narnia, Caspian might be dead by then. Caspian might be his Luna, a shadow of a person, a legend. Edmund might return when Caspian is not even remembered.

And when Caspian, out of flirtatious duty more than anything else, kisses Susan, Lucy squeezes his hand when no one is watching. It is like ice in his veins, and Caspian gives Edmund a guilty look when everyone else is focused on Aslan.

Edmund, as usual, finds it hard to focus on Aslan when his heart feels like it is made of ice and stone and pain.

Their days were short; just a few nights in Edmund's hole of a room spent holding each other. Edmund stopped talking to let Caspian say what he wanted to, and he learned about the lonely boy Caspian had been and the powerful man he would become. He learned about the beautiful things Caspian says when he isn't even conscious of them: he just spits them out and they touch Edmund so deeply he wants to cry.

The last night, Caspian whispers _goodbye _in Edmund's ear when he thinks Edmund has fallen asleep.

Edmund's pillow is damp that night.

But now, he is brave for Narnia, for his siblings. For Caspian. If they never meet again, it was a good run.

God, he hates himself. He hates everything now. He is back to the sullenness. He is back to remembering how it feels to be alone, to not find anyone there at his side instantly, to understand.

Susan glows a little from Caspian's kiss, and it's the perfect ending to the perfect fucking fairytale. Caspian hates himself for doing it when he sees Edmund's face. He had only wanted to know what it would be like, but it's not worth Edmund's forced bravery, the level stare he gives him. Caspian feels like dying a little.

When Edmund glances back one final time, Caspian cannot meet his eyes. His last memories of Edmund's time with him is the look of his boots as he climbs back through the portal to his world.


	3. Chapter 3: The Ship

**Chapter 3: The Ship**

Edmund chokes back seawater when suddenly he feels a pair of strong arms around him. They are familiar and safe and when he is thrown on deck, he sees the dripping wet Caspian smiling at him.

This is not what he had expected. Edmund had anticipated the inquisitive, friendly boy he'd left behind. But this boy - Caspian was a man, self-assured, confident. Older than him. _That _was odd. To think how much older Caspian was than him, even though Edmund had lived many more years than Caspian.

"Hello," says Caspian, and it's so reminiscent of that night that Edmund wants to scream.

"Hello," answers Edmund, trying to avoid Lucy's eyes. Lucy looks as if Christmas has come early, she's so vicariously happy for him. She wants to explode, he can tell. Even Eustace's grumblings cannot mar this for him.

When Eustace is pouting on deck, Caspian finds Edmund's room. Edmund does not even say hello before Caspian is kissing him, throwing him against the back wall, hands tangled in his hair.

"Hello," he says again, and Edmund, for the first time in what seems like eons, laughs.

"You're different."

"Yes," replies Caspian easily, kissing Edmund again. "You are too."

Edmund, for the whole hour of anticipation he'd spent, had feared that Caspian would not want to pick up where they had left off. He had panicked. He had replayed the image of Caspian and Susan over in his heads for months.

"I love you," says Caspian impulsively, and Edmund gently pushes him away.

"What?"

Caspian turns red, looks away. "Nothing."

"You _love me?"_

Caspian bites his lip. "Yes. No. I'm sorry."

"You can't love me," says Edmund quickly. "You can't. Because this isn't forever, this is impermanent - this is not _allowed."_

"Why not?" Caspian demands. "Why isn't this allowed?"

"Because you're king!" shouts Edmund suddenly. "Because I'm going to have to leave. Because you're not a boy anymore, and neither am I!"

"Exactly," says Caspian. _"Exactly. _None of those were reasons at all. They were motives."

"Caspian," sighs Edmund, sitting on his bed. Caspian sits next to him, regretting speaking.

"I missed you," mutters Caspian.

"You kissed my sister," says Edmund impulsively, and regrets it.

Caspian sighs deeply. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't've - but what you said, I just wondered - "

He blushes darkly. "I'd never - with a girl - "

"_Oh." _Edmund turns a little pink in the cheeks, ducks his head.

"Can we not do this?" asks Caspian, and Edmund notices for the first time that his accent is gone. He sort of misses it.

"Yes, of course," agrees Edmund. When Caspian kisses him again, Edmund pretends they're back in his dark room in the cave, imagining they had all the time in the world.

"It'll be different this time," whispers Edmund in the shell of Caspian's ear, and he hears Caspian's sigh, feels it on his shoulder.

"I know," Caspian breathes. " 'It's never the same as it was,' remember?"

"You're quoting me," says Edmund faintly. Caspian nods against him.

"I love you," Caspian murmurs into Edmund's shoulder. "I don't care if you don't, because I know you do anyway."

When Caspian reaches for the door, Edmund calls out, "Wait." He doesn't have anything to say. He only wants to see Caspian turn, his eyes waiting for Edmund to speak. "Miss me," commands Edmund with a twitch of his lips, and Caspian smiles.

"I always do," he says, and pulls the door to Edmund's bedroom shut.

Edmund spends every waking moment thinking about Caspian. Sometimes, Caspian and he sneak away and engage in some not-so kingly behavior in Caspian's quarters on his nice, velvety bed. Lying in his arms in the afternoon light, Edmund thinks that he's never been happier. Truly, he means it. Not as a king in Cair Paravel, not as a High King battling Miraz and _definitely _not in England.

"What?" asks Caspian. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," says Edmund, "that I might love you."

Caspian smiles. "Might?"

The corners of Edmund's mouth twitch upward. "Might."

"I can accept that," sighs Caspian, breath lost. It sails over Edmund's forehead, and Edmund loves the sensation that every breath he takes is breathing in _Caspian, _that they're becoming a part of each other.

"You know," says Caspian gently into Edmund's hair, "you were always my favorite king, even before all this."

It's so nice and just what Edmund needed to hear that he actually has to choke back the tears threatening the front of his eyes.

"Thank you," he whispers hoarsely. Caspian has given him everything - and now he's given him preference, which is all he really ever wanted. Ever.

Edmund wants to believe these times will never end, but they must.

edmund knows it's coming soon - he can feel it. But here, in Caspian's arms, he doesn't say anything. To acknowledge is to remember that all the things that have made him happy are going to go away, and he'll be stuck in a wooden room in a wooden house in boring England with his cousin and virtuous younger sister, treated as a boy. Here he is a king. He belongs with someone. He belongs with and to Caspian.

"Never let me go," he tells Caspian, and it's less a command than a plea. He needs him to need him forever.

"I won't," says Caspian, and even though they both know it's an empty promise, it's a promise Edmund needs to hear. "I'll never let you go."

Edmund doesn't know what he's truly asking and Caspian doesn't know what he's actually answering, but like so many words that pass between them in the afternoon hours, they're words that needed to be said and heard. They're words that have no meaning but mean everything and they're words that sound beautiful and are everything and nothing at all.

Edmund wonders if they'll write anything in the history books about Caspian and him. The other sailors have probably guessed by now, because Caspian is awful at being discreet, and Lucy has probably confided in anyone she trusts, which is everyone. Not that Edmund minds, really. The crew seems to be more amused than disgusted, which is a rather new reaction for Edmund. There are less awkward silences than amused titters when Caspian does things like swing his arm around Edmund's shoulders in a way Edmund is sure Caspian thinks is brotherly, but isn't. Caspian also likes to confide small things in Edmund's ear, which everyone has noticed, and also grab his hand, which ever since Lucy noticed, everyone now has. And if they do write about them in the history books, what will it say? He hopes they don't put the word "lover" in there; he's always hated that word. But he hopes there's something maybe about companion or friend or something that indicates how incredibly vital Edmund hopes he is to Caspian, and how incredibly vital Caspian feels to him. Sometimes when Edmund feels like a pile of misshapen limbs, Caspian passes and presses just two fingers to the back of Edmund's neck, and they speak louder than any words can.

_I'm here, _they say. _I'm here._

Most of what Caspian whispers to him involves derivatives of that - _I'm here, I'll stay, It's me, I won't leave. _Because no matter how everything feels right now, there's the edge of finiteness that is curbing everything, and Edmund would spend all his time sulking about it if there weren't all the snogging to be done and Caspian's fingers pressing intently on the back of his neck.

_I'm here._


	4. Chapter 4: The Island

**Chapter 4: The Island**

When they reach the island, it is dark and dangerous and Edmund's mind seems to hitch back into overdrive. He loves it there. He loves thinking fast, the constant danger. He loves being the hero, to be honest. He hasn't gotten to be one in a while, not with Peter and not with Caspian around. But here, he's battling for equality of heroics with Caspian, even though both of them are mad for each other. Maybe that's _why _they battle.

And when the star daughter descends to give them guidance, it's like both of them has to be the _most _infatuated with her because that's what straight, manly kings do, and the rage burns deep in Edmund's bones. Even though he's pretending to care, he thinks Caspian might actually be taken with her, and it's enough to drive Edmund insane. It's enough to make him want to punch someone, because he's in love with Caspian and why does Caspian even have to look at someone else and he doesn't want to be jealous but maybe Caspian should avert his eyes now, or something.

This is what happens when you fall in love, thinks Edmund. When you finally put yourself out there, it all ends up badly. You feel betrayed and used and used up. Edmund doesn't think he could give Caspian any more of himself even if he tried, but Caspian's already flirting with the star daughter and Edmund's sulking to the side, Lucy squeezing his hand fervently. God, he hates how wonderful Lucy is sometimes.

Later, when they're back on the ship, Caspian comes to Edmund's room.

"I was waiting for you," he grins, taking a step toward Edmund. Edmund backs up, brushing him away. Caspian's smile slips off his face. "Edmund, what is it?"

"Maybe you can ask your girlfriend," mutters Edmund resentfully, and Caspian sighs, frowning.

"Look, Edmund, I - "

"It doesn't matter," says Edmund. "You're lining up new prospects for when I leave, I understand."

"_Edmund - "_

Edmund smiles grimly, putting on his Let's-All-Go-Down-Together smile. "At least I know where I stand."

"_Edmund," _says Caspian sharply. He leans in until Edmund can smell his clothes, the perfumed scent of his skin. "There will never be anyone to replace you, ever. In all of history, in all the worlds, there will never be anyone like you."

Edmund lets himself be held lifelessly against Caspian, feeling like a rag doll. Caspian says these things so easily but he can never tell whether or not they're just words or something meaningful. He doesn't know if he's fallen in love with Caspian or his words, the prince - _king - _or the things he says.

In the end, are they any different?

_In the end, we become our words, _thinks Edmund, and he lets himself be enveloped in Caspian's embrace, breathing into his shoulder as he senses the end swimming closer and closer toward them.


	5. Chapter 5: The Beach and Back

A/N: Thank you so much, you guys, for reading and reviewing! This is the last chapter and it's also my first finished fic, so I really appreciate the support. Hopefully I'll be back with something else and I'll definitely be drifting around this fandom!

Much love,  
Molly

**Chapter 5: The Beach and Back**

They are on a beach. Everything is glittering and gold, and Edmund feels empty. Staring into the sun, he can only see part of Capsian's face, and he, truth be told, is not listening to Aslan very much. He can practically _hear _Aslan in his mind.

_Edmund. It would be best to pay _attention.

But he cannot tear his eyes away from Caspian, who watches Aslan fixedly. He wonders what is going through his head. As for Edmund, it is only a chorus of _Caspian Caspian Caspian Caspian Caspian Caspian Caspian._

And then it is time to leave.

It's time to leave.

It's time to leave.

Edmund can't do it. He can't leave. He can't leave. It's like his limbs are frozen in place. He can feel the tears' weight in his throat, the tightness squeezing out his speech. He can feel, like a ghost, the memory of Caspian's kiss, touch - two fingers at the back of his neck. He can hear his voice, smell his scent, feel his skin. He cannot go back to England. He can't leave.

But he has to. He has to leave. It's time. And he's never coming back.

Lucy is ready for this moment. She's been ready for days. She has said her goodbyes to the crew, said goodbye to Narnia. Here on Aslan's Island, she is ready to leave and to live Narnia in England.

Edmund is not ready. He still doesn't know what Narnia _means, _why he was sent here and why he has suffered so much for something so great.

"I'll come with you," says Caspian automatically, and the words are so quick that Edmund smiles furtively to himself - the chorus in Caspian's head has been _Edmund Edmund Edmund Edmund, _he knows it.

But they both know that's not the way it works. They both know that their love was a lesson to be learned and nothing more; Caspian deserves the star daughter and Edmund deserves England. Caspian will go off and be married and be king, and Edmund will stare fixedly at the painting on his wall at night, Lucy watching him concernedly. In sort, Caspian's life will move on and Edmund's will not.

_I have lived for him, _thinks Edmund miserably. _Everything was to get to him._

What is his purpose now? What's the _point _of it all?

Aslan says something about looking for him in the real world. Lucy is a little teary-eyed; she nods faithfully. Edmund cannot even begin to think about looking for Aslan, but he knows that every face he sees will bear Caspian's image - every kind word will be a shadow of Caspian's, every touch an echo of those shared in his bedroom. He will spend his whole life looking for someone who can measure up to what Caspian has been to him, which is everything.

Edmund know's it's practically heretical, his love for Caspian, but at this point, it doesn't matter. It's too late anyway. The sea has opened behind them and it's time to leave.

Caspian lunges into an embrace, but Edmund doesn't care and neither, obviously, does Caspian, and Caspian is saying a river of things into his ear and Edmund doesn't catch any of them, but just the breathy syllables are enough to make his heart splinter. As Caspian pulls away, Edmund catches, "I love you," and the words are pulled into the air. They drift across the ocean on the breeze.

Edmund wishes Aslan weren't here and Lucy and Eustace because he wants one more sunlit afternoon. Just one. And the sick part is he's finally ready to say it, say _I love you _but it's too late too late too late. Edmund tries to send the words with his eyes and his face, and when Caspian closes his own to relieve the pressure building behind them, Edmund knows he's succeeded.

A gull flies overhead, singing. Edmund looks up at it as it sails over the wave, catching spray from the portal back to England. Everything has been given up now; they've entrusted everything that has ever mattered to the world and can only hope that love is flying on the wings of a seagull.

_I love you, _blinks Edmund.

_I'll never stop, _blinks Caspian.

Tearing his eyes away from him, Edmund walks through the wave back into England, allowing the tears to finally slip from his eyes.

Caspian sits on the sand for a while and cries and later tells the crew that Aslan wanted to speak with him.

Both, whenever they see a seagull, press fingers to the backs of their necks just to remember what it was like to have everything in their arms.


End file.
